Sexy Vixen

Sexy Vixen

In this chapter of semipro, I ponder on why I agreed to go out with Simon. Perhaps I sought a substitute for John.

In the span of one and a half years after Gerald first hired me, I had gone on numerous dates with men who caught my fancy and even slept with two of them - one of whom later became my boyfriend for a few months. Nonetheless, I yearned for the sexual excitement and ego boost Gerald provided during the few instances he could gather $468.64, which occurred only thrice during that duration. This is why I ended things with my boyfriend. I didn't want to be considered unfaithful, but I couldn't resist the thrill of receiving payment.

However, finding men to pay me for sex proved more challenging than anticipated. I couldn't bring myself to sleep with strangers or men I didn't feel safe around, yet I couldn't reveal my fetish to close ones, for they'd be judgemental or risk revealing it to other friends or family who'd likewise be judgemental.

I did consider contacting an escort agency, and they responded promptly upon receiving a photo of me in a bikini. They guaranteed I could select my clients and depart without questions, but I couldn't bring myself to proceed. I worried about the reliability of the agency and believed screening a client for sex is not the same as meeting someone who doesn't anticipate sex and leaving if I don't fancy them.

My dilemma was to discover someone I knew but wasn't typically attracted to, but also comfortable with to engage in sex if he paid enough. I needed to find a guy like this but couldn't disclose my intentions to him.

Simon, who was slightly taller than me and had unkempt brown hair, appeared a bit unintentional due to his asymmetrical eyes. He was polite and intelligent, yet seemed unengaged in whatever conversation was taking place or during the conversations we had. I sensed he might be particularly interested in me, but I'm unsure if this alone compelled me to accept his invitation. Perhaps I was struck by the hope and anxiety on his face as he awaited my response.

At first, I contemplated a while before responding. Instead, he offered praises and noted our compatibility. I don't play games with men, but I do attempt to convey signs. Saying yes promptly may suggest I'm interested in him, and may stimulate thoughts of love or romance. I have no problem if this true and will say yes immediately. However, if I want just a date, considering my answer gives a hint about this. I eventually told him, "Okay, one date." His bewilderment and bewilderment made it enjoyable.

After our encounter, I realized Simon could be my next John. No intention of long-term partnerships with him, but may possibly anticipate his desire to sleep with a hot girl like me, resulting in a worthwhile offer. Thus I had to devise a plan to encourage him without ensuring my services were for sale.

To attract him, I decided to display more skin without appearing slutty. My attire consisted of a skirt ending mid-thigh, a V-neck crop top revealing my cleavage and abdomen, and a white loose bolero shrug. The skirt and top were matching pebble prints of beige and white, whereas the shrug was white. Additionally, I carried a gold clutch and wore white two-inch platform heels. If I were an expert call girl, I'd wear three-inch heels not platform, but due to inexperience, I couldn't manage such footwear without stumbling.

Simon appeared in dark trousers, a white dress shirt, a gray-patterned coat, and a shiny brown bow tie. He brought me flowers that would look great in my dorm room and a box of chocolates I'd need to give away if I wanted to charge big for my sexual services.

He took me to a restaurant where we could have some privacy in a semi-circular booth. I perched slightly closer to him than traditionally suitable for the first date and made sure he could see down my shirt.

After we ordered, he said, "I hope you don't mind, I'm not so good at this... talking, to... people."

"Not good at what?" I interjected.

"Talking. To... people."

"You seem to do okay."

"Yes, well, I brought something to help me."

"Something to help you talk to me?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"These." He fished into his coat and extracted four decks of playing cards. "They're conversation starters. Each card holds a question. You pick one randomly, and both individuals respond. If it promotes conversation, you carry on. If not, pick another card."

"Why are there four decks?"

"Each deck has a theme. You mix those you desire for whatever form of conversation you want."

"What are the themes?"

"First, it's "Entertaining". What's your favorite book? What do you like to do on weekends? That sort of thing. The second is "Deep". An archetypical question is "Who do you miss the most who has passed away?" The third one is named "Dangerous". Most questions focus on religion and politics. The last one is "Spicy". These often tackle sex. Although some might be about medications or alcohol."

Seeing an opportunity, I said, "I think we should have a fun and spicy conversation."

"Really? You want to incorporate the Spicy deck?"

"Certainly."

"Okay," he mumbled, sounding hesitant. His hands, which had remained steady, began to tremble a bit as he opened the Fun and Spicy decks and mixed them together. He placed the combined deck on the table and drew the initial question.

"What's the most embarrassing setting where you've had sex?" he read. "Um, hold up," he said nervously, "we don't have to..."

"No, no," I said, giving his hand a supportive squeeze intended to be both comforting and lustful, "the least I can do is give you an answer for your question." This would make him imagine me having sex.

"Okay."

"The most uncomfortable setting I've had sex? Hmm..." The longer I pretended to think about it, the more I appeared to have had sex. "I think it would have to be... in the anus."

He laughed heartily, and I took pleasure in my joke. It reduced the tension, making him consider me having anal sex.

However, he said, "Similar to The Newlywed Game."

"The what?"

"The Newlywed Game. That was a game show for newlyweds. They'd answer questions about each other, trying to see which couple knew each other the best. A well-known response was when they asked, "Where was the weirdest location you ever did the deed?" and one woman said, "In the anus."

"They named sex 'making whoopee'?"

"Yes. It was an old show."

"So I'm like Leibniz?"

"Exactly. Just like Newton, if he was a dense clod who stumbled upon calculus by accident. Since the lady on The Newlywed Game wasn't joking. She truly believed that response was what the question intended."

"I'm nearly like him then."

"Exactly. Except you'd be like Leibniz if Newton were an imbecilic clown." Damn, he was now comforting me. I wished to come across as the sophisticated lady offering comfort. Sure, being comforted makes you endearing to the one comforting you, but I sought to come across as a hooker with a heart of gold.

I contemplated for a second. "To be honest, that was likely the most awkward place." I then followed with, "At least to begin with. After numerous instances, it turned into an enjoyable experience." This statement, however, wasn't truthful. I had only taken part in anal sex on two occasions, and while it grew better the second time, it was still uncomfortable. But I desired for my date to perceive me as a promiscuous individual.

Simon stuck in silence, seemingly contemplating how many different penises I had received anal sex from. "Alright," Simon stated eventually, "should we move on to the next card?"

"Absolutely."

Simon drew the next card and read aloud, "What is your ideal vacation destination?"

"I yearn to travel to Mondragon, Spain." I shared. "It's located in the Basque region and offers striking hikes, as well as allowing me the opportunity to study the Mondragon Corporation."

"Worker cooperatives ... are a significant interest for you?" Simon inquired.

"Yes, they can be viewed as socialist enterprises thriving in the capitalist structure. By and large, they prioritize capital subjugation and are democratically managed by their own staff."

"Huh," Simon uttered, sounding slightly puzzled, "that's quite interesting..."

Okay, I failed to maintain my plot. I ought to have announced the French Riviera to stimulate his imagination of me sunbathing naked. But sometimes, I just can't assist myself. "So, what about you, your dream vacation spot?" I asked.

"Mars," Simon answered.

"Mars?" I appeared perplexed.

"I understand they haven't commenced offering flights just yet, but that is my objective."

"Oh, uncommon vacation aspirations, this is what we have in common, though I must relinquish that interplanetary exploration is inherently more compelling than surveying socialist accounting." He chortled, fortunately regaining my attention. "Shall we pull the next card?" I suggested, reaching for the deck.

"Proceed," Simon urged.

I extracted the next card and read, "What place have you visited that you would never like to go back to?" I chuckled. "Oh, I'm well-aware of my answer to that," I commented.

"Ugh," Simon sighed with a hurt look, "so do I."

"Oh." I stopped laughing. "What's your response?"

"My Aunt Lynn's house."

"Your aunt's residence?"

"Yes. We attended to greet her new spouse she had just wed in Las Vegas. He was a jerk, but the whole scenario became unsatisfactory only when he discovered my Father is Jewish. The dude then delved into interrogating my Father regarding how frequently he attends temple, how well he knows the Torah, and if he adheres to a kosher diet. Dude wasn't Jewish himself and I am unsure how religious he was. However, when my Father declared himself an atheist, the dude erupted, yelling at my aunt, "How could you not have revealed this to me?" and other inflammatory questions. Finally, my Mom asked her sister, "Wasn't he an antisemite when you wed him?" Then the two women began arguing.

"That's unbelievable," I said.

"True, it is," Simon acknowledged.

"Well, I have to make a correction to my response as well."

"Why?"

"I was initially going to declare South of the Border, but after hearing your narrative, I realize, indeed, I'd prefer returning to South of the Border than my grandparents' house."

"What's South of the Border?"

"Ah, being from the north, I presume? South of the Border is the most horrendous roadside tourist destination in America. It's located in South Carolina, along the boundary between the Carolinas. It's best to skip past the billboards and simply drive past it if traveling to Myrtle Beach. As I'm not going to divulge the story regarding that location, I suddenly realize, indeed, I would choose South of the Border above visiting my grandparents' residence."

My grandparents didn't accept their grandchild as their boy and refused to refer to him by his correct name or pronouns, instead dubbing the lot of us as 'woke zombies'. They questioned about the child's medical treatment, only to furiously threaten to report my parents to Child Protective Services once they realized the child was on puberty blockers. Our response? We promptly left, never to return.

Meanwhile, Simon and I covered awkward topics to know each other better using a set of cards. However, the cards fell flat when it came to fun. I picked the next card and read, "What secret fetish would you least like for your family to find out?" The opportunity to rat on him became tempting. "I've got a good one! What do you think of yours?"

Simon grew fidgety in his seat, clearly anxious. "I... don't think so."

I kept pushing, "Hey, I've got something strange up my sleeve. Let me tell you first." Simon's nervousness could be seen from his shifting, fearful eyes. "You're hiding something."

"No, I'm not!" Simon opted to pass the responsibility unto me.

"Just name yours, then I'll tell you mine," I declared.

"No, you go first."

"The only way I'll go first is if you confess first. Mine's even more bizarre."

"Mines can't be worse," Simon argued, "even if it is, it's not, right?"

"Think about it this way. A beautiful woman with an unusual kink is just more desirable, whereas a geeky guy with an unusual kink is just a pervert."

Simon's words had a point - I forgot to brace myself for what he might say. "Is yours illegal?" I asked.

"No."

"Then I win. Mine is."

"What?"

I emphasized, "When you tell me, I'll tell you what mine is."

"I won't tell you."

"Fine, I'll go first. I have a secret sex fetish that's borderline illegal."

Simon sounded conflicted, "How do you know you won?"

"I'm a criminal now, while by confessing, you'll just be... perverted."

"Alright, I'll tell you. I like to be insulted and humiliated by hot women."

Having not heard of this before, I burst out laughing. "What did you say!?"

"I... I mean... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Simon mumbled.

"No, I wasn't laughing at you. I laughed because I've never heard of that before." I reached across to hold his hand, attempting to ease him into sharing more. "So this happened when you were in high school? Well, you asked out the hottest girl you could think of, didn't you?"

"Yes, and she mocked me, called me a pathetic geek for the world to hear," he replied.

"That's when it turned you on? You loved it?"

"Yes."

"Here's the thing though," I closed in to speak in a whisper, "she ended up indirectly helping you masturbate to the thought of her making fun of you. You were enjoying it."

"Interesting take," Simon said, still unsure.

"So have you explored this kink since then?"

"Yes, I only ask out over-confident women from now on."

The look in Simon's eyes suggested he didn't comprehend his own admission until just a moment ago.

"Nah, I don't, I mean not necessarily." He noticed the puzzled look on my face and carried on, "You see, it's just that there's no downside to asking out girls way out of my league. They either let me down gently, which is disappointing but not too bad, or they mock and ridicule me - now that gives me a perverted thrill, or they say yes, and that's the jackpot."

"Seems like you're looking at the same positives I am."

"I guess that's right," he admitted.

"Time to seduce the beast," I teased saucily, "you just hit the jackpot!"

"Like Spider-Man."

"Exactly." A thought crossed my mind. "So, what made you ask out that snobby princess?"

"Well, she was attractive."

"That's not enough. There must've been other pretty or attractive girls at your school."

"I did have a crush on her."

"And what caused this crush? Had she been nice to you before you asked her out, had she never noticed you before, or had she been mean or rude to you before?"

He looked distressed. "I don't think I'd considered that. It might've been. Yeah, probably."

"So, you had a thing for the mean girls. Good to know."

Simon seemed annoyed. "I... hadn't considered that. It might be."

I took a deep breath, ready to cross the reputational vulnerability event horizon. "Here's a secret about me - I like to be paid a lot of money for sex. Like a high-class escort."

Simon's eyes widened. "You mean like a hooker?"

"Exactly. A high-priced call girl."

"Really? Do you actually accept the money, or is it a role-play?"

"Nope, I take the money."

"But that's not a kink, is it? It's just something you do for the cash, right?"

"No, I don't do it for the cash. I get turned on knowing how much a guy wants me. The money is just a physical symbol."

"But couldn't you just give the money away after?"

"No, because then it wouldn't be real the next time. He might just be pretending to want to pay me because he thinks I'll return the money."

"You could give the money to charity."

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea... But what makes this cash different from any other?"

"If you were donating money for sex, then you wouldn't really be..." He hesitated. "You know..."

"An escort?" I finished for him. "Yes, I would. An escort for a good cause is still an escort."

"I'm sorry," he started to apologize, but I cut him off, changing the topic.

"Plus, getting paid makes me want to give the guy my best performance. I become a sort of sexual performer, putting on a great show for this one customer. It's similar to being an entertainer who gets loads of cash to perform for an audience, only it's my own personal audience. But when I have sex with someone just because I like them, it's more of a shared experience - I expect to be given pleasure as well."

"But why can't you perform for free?"

"Because even though I enjoy it, it's still work, and I should be paid."

"So, you're proud of your profession?"

"Yes, I am a prostitute, but I'm the best." I stared into his eyes while I fidgeted with his foot, helping him build up the courage to ask me for sex. I waited patiently and continued to play footsie with him as I stared into his eyes.

"Can I... hire you?" he nervously asked.

"You?!," I exclaimed, utterly shocked. Then I laughed at him mockingly, "Ha! I might be a prostitute, but even I have some standards. No, you little pervert, you literally couldn't pay me to sleep with you!"

Simon hung his head in shame, "I'm sorry," he muttered, "I'm sorry, it was a stupid thing to ask, I know I'm not..." He looked up and saw me smirking at him.

"Wait a minute," he said slowly, "are you...?"

"Trying to arouse you?" I said, grinning. "Yes. Did it work?" He froze, unsure of what to say. I gently felt his crotch. "Yes," I said, "it did." I pulled my hand away. "Did you enjoy that?"

"Um, which part?" he questioned.

I laughed, "Both," I said.

"Then, yes, I did, a lot," he responded. "A lot."

"Good," I said, "as I said, I take great pride in my work."

"Your work? So, does that mean..." He trailed off.

"Yes," I said, "for the right fee, you can rent my vagina for the night." Simon's mouth fell open slightly. "But I'm not sure if it's a good idea for you."

"Why not?" he asked, almost stuttering.

"Like I said, if you hire me, I'll be completely focused on giving you the most intense sexual experience of your life. And I'm really talented at it, to the point where my own desires won't matter since my primary goal will be to make you feel good."

I could see it was difficult for him to breathe. "And what's the downside of that?" he asked.

"Well," I said, "you're a virgin. If your first time is with me, it might create unrealistic expectations for your future romantic encounters. The first woman you'll be with who you're not paying for won't be a seasoned professional like me, and she'll expect some reciprocation. She'll deserve it. And you'll want to give it to her because you're a decent human being who doesn't want to be selfish."

I maintained eye contact with him as I continued, "But it'll still be a letdown compared to the experience you'll get from me. Hiring me tonight will ruin all other women for you in the future. Sex will only get worse after this." I placed my hand on his thigh and leaned in closer, "Do you want me to ruin all other women for you, Simon?" I asked.

"Yes, please," he said, focusing on my cleavage.

I delicately took his index finger, brought it to my mouth, and lightly licked his fingerprint area. "You've been warned," I said.

"How much?" he asked.

"How much do what... Oh!" I was an embarrassment, even to a hooker. I spent the entire evening flirting with Simon to get him to ask this question, and I hadn't considered the price. I needed to make it seem like I was carefully deliberating the price.

"Let me think," I said, putting on an exaggerated expression that was a mix of mock thoughtfulness and mischief, "Hmm, let me think about it." I was trying to appear like I was teasing him while really needing to brainstorm a proper rate.

It had to be high enough to be a huge obstacle for him and show how much he wanted me, but it couldn't be so high that the average college student couldn't afford it. Nor did I want him to pay less than Gerald.

"You qualify for the student discount," I said. "Five hundred dollars."

"That's a lot," he said.

"I'm worth it," I said, feeling his erection through his pants. Simon looked anxious, but that quickly faded as I stroked his cock.

"How can I pay you?"

"I take cash or Venmo," I said, "Up front."

He worked on his phone, trying to gather the money. Our food arrived, and I started eating while I thought about the sexual experience I'd give Simon that night. Numerous excellent ideas came to mind.

Finally, my phone beeped. Simon had transferred me the money.

Time for the show.

Well, if I'm going to play the mean bitch tonight, we're not enjoying sex as equals. We're just having sex, and one of us will be dominating the other. And it feels like you want me to dominate you. Touching your private part, it seems like you're a perverted fellow who dreams of being used as a sex toy by a stuck-up woman who won't let you forget that it's a pity fuck because you'd never measure up to her. Is that true, my unfortunate friend?

Simon head-nodded, but then inquired, "So what's the other choice?"

"Well, you could fantasize about taking revenge on the stuck-up women by aggressively screwing them hard. What plays out in your mind when you masturbate, Simon? Are you putting women in their place or are they still dishonoring you as you fuck them?"

"They're still insulting me."

"Okay. Now let's discuss limitations. So far, I've only used general insults. Can I get too real? Should I stick to things that are clearly untrue, like calling you stupid? You're a top scholar at a top twenty-five university, so that's not legitimate. Can I insult you about things that are already out in the open, such as your social awkwardness or your decision to hire a hooker? Can I point out other imperfections I might discover, such as..." I paused. I was about to mention "your eyes," but I realized that simply saying that in this scenario would be a scathing remark I couldn't withdraw. "Any other neutral shortcoming I note, like..." I stuttered, uneasily trying to correct my error. I petted his erect member a bit to distract him from the fact that I had just insinuated that there really were things about him that I found deficient.

"Um, use general insults. Insult me for hiring you. Insult me about things that aren't true. But don't overdo it. Don't bring up my social awkwardness or anything else real."

"Got it. But in case I overstep, let's establish a safety word. Let's say..." 'fishhead'?"

"Fishhead?"

"Yes, 'fishhead.' There's no conceivable circumstance in which that term would arise naturally, so if you utter 'fishhead,' we can take a break from my mean-spirited attitude."

"Okay."

"Now, a couple of conditions from me. One, no kissing on the lips tonight, and two, you must not touch me in any manner without my expressed consent."

"Fine. No kissing is a hooker convention, isn't it?"

"Not for me. In fact, I've affectionately kissed each and every one of my previous customers."

"No, this regulation is just because you're a pathetic geek who needs to pay for sex and doesn't deserve a kiss. Do you understand, you foolish jerk?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alright." I moved the table closer to us so that the tablecloth rested on our laps. "Bring your penis out now."

"Here?"

"Indeed. But keep it concealed beneath the tablecloth."

"Why here?"

"Because I'm the attractive hooker who was hired to service your unworthy appendage this evening, and I'm instructing you to show it to me. Do it now."

Simon moved the tablecloth near him and lowered his hand underneath. There was some movement under the tablecloth. "My penis is out," he explained.

"Place your hands on the table so I can witness them," I instructed. Simon complied.

I slid my hand beneath the tablecloth and wrapped it around his penis. I've held exactly five erect penises in my hand before. One was larger than Simon's, but Simon's was larger than a couple of them. "You're not finding me enticing enough? I'm not sexy enough for you?"

"Of course you are. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he retorted. Although this assertion was not feasible, considering all the women he hadn't met before, it was probably accurate for him - at least in this situation. "Why would you assume you're not exciting me?"

"I thought you'd be more aroused. Look, I'm taking off my underwear." With my other hand, I continued to remove my undergarments, trying not to let him realize I was doing so.

"I am aroused."

"No, I mean, I expected you to be fully erect, completely hard," I said, still holding his hard penis in my hand and pulling off my undies with my other hand.

"I am fully aroused," he asserted.

"Wow!" I pulled my hand out from under my skirt and raised the table cloth in front of Simon. I showed him my left hand to have a clear view of his moderately-sized penis. I chuckled. "Oh my goodness, you definitely have a small one! I apologize, I've just never seen a penis as tiny as this," I fibbed. I lowered my head to speak to his penis directly. "Guess that's what I'll be calling you, 'Tiny'. Hello, Tiny!" I wiggled my fingers at his little guy. "You're quite the little guy for a fully grown man, aren't you?" I replaced the table cloth back in front of him and stared at Simon. "Lucky for you, you won't have to worry about whether I can deep-throat you. It can be challenging to get most men into my throat, but your cock won't even fill it up." I grabbed his penis again under the table cloth and slowly stroked him. "Now, just close your eyes and enjoy this hot lady stroking your small dick."

Simon closed his eyes as I continued to tease and stroke his member. I promptly took the opportunity to remove my panties. I stuffed them into my purse.

"Simon, have you ever touched a vagina before?"

He shook his head.

"What a horny guy you are, loving to play with a prostitute's brain?"

He nodded and opened his eyes.

"Keep your eyes closed." He closed them again.

I released his penis but kept a tight grip on it. I grabbed his right hand with mine and helped him move it under the table cloth and up my skirt. I massaged his palm on my inner thighs a little and then pressed it against my groin. I could see his eyes widen even as he kept them shut.

"You aren't wearing underwear," he said in disbelief.

"We whores must be ready to have sex at any moment," I said. "Do you like that prostitute's vagina, filthy?"

He nodded.

"Keep your eyes closed." He closed them again.

I stopped stroking but kept hold of his penis. I took his right hand with mine and placed it under the table cloth and up my skirt. I rubbed his hand against my upper thighs briefly and then pressed it against my crotch. I watched his eyes expand despite his attempts to keep them shut.

"You feel how wet I am, Simon?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Do you know what that wetness means, Simon?"

He hesitated. "Does it mean you're sexually excited?"

"Exactly!" I responded. "I am extremely aroused. And do you know what's making me so sexually aroused, Simon?"

Simon remained silent.

I put my lips next to his ear and whispered, "Your money."

I grinned and sat back up.

"Now, Simon, enjoy one of your perverted fantasies and feel my vagina." I felt the smooth skin of his middle finger gently push my vagina entrance open. "Not that finger, idiot! Your index finger!" Simon quickly changed fingers and I felt his index finger enter me. When it was completely inside me, he started doing random movements in me, unsure of what to do. Exploring many sensitive areas inside me, the feeling was thrilling and aggravating. I spotted the waiter coming towards us, but I remained quiet.

"Is everything alright here?" inquired the waiter.

Simon clearly jumped in his chair with his eyes opening and he yanked his finger out of me. I maintained a hold on his penis under the table cloth.

"No," I said. "This is the most ridiculously dull date I've ever been to."

"I'm sorry to hear that," replied the waiter, likely sorry to have been drawn into our drama. "How's your meal? Do you like it?"

"This is the most amazing experience I expect to have tonight," I said.

"I will share this compliment with the chef," said the waiter with the perfect tinge of sarcasm in his voice. "Is there anything else I can provide for you?"

"A hotter date," I replied. "Perhaps someone like you?"

The waiter considered me for a moment. Then much to my surprise, he wrote something on his small notepad, tore it off, and folded it in half.

"No," said the waiter as he positioned the paper in front of Simon, "but you can."

The waiter walked away, leaving us both stunned. When he was out of sight, I couldn't help but burst into laughter. Simon joined me.

"What a guy who knows how to put a stuck-up girl in her place," I said.

We carried on with our meal, and I kept teasing Simon and pleasuring his penis.

I went to the bathroom. Meanwhile, I noticed a group of middle-aged men staring at my legs as I passed them by. Before I returned, I pulled up my skirt, barely covering my backside.

Upon my return, I sat down with my back facing the group of men. I shifted the dishes on the table and leaned over, supporting myself with my elbows. I looked at Simon and asked:

"Simon, do you see those guys behind me?"

"Yes."

"Are they ogling at my butt?"

He glanced behind me. "Yes."

"You know they can see all of my bits, right? The ones you just paid $500 for, but haven't seen yet? I'm arching my hips, enabling them to have a fantastic view of it. Does it amuse those random old guys viewing your expensive merchandise?"

"Yes, ma'am, yes it does."

I picked up Simon's middle finger and ran my tongue over the tip. "Mmm, this pussy I've been displaying for the guys still tastes great," I lied. "No wonder guys love licking pussy so much. The pussy I'm displaying is truly scrumptious. Seems those guys have already had their money's worth." I stood up, faced them, and blew them a kiss. One of them just stared back blankly, another tried to act like he hadn't just been staring at my crotch, and the third blew me a kiss in return.

We continued eating and I instructed Simon to leave a 30% tip for the waiter due to the potential sexual harassment I'd subjected him to. He then zipped up his pants.

As we exited, I stopped at the table of the middle-aged men. "Greetings, gentlemen!" I said. "This little fellow here will be paying me $500 tonight to fuck him, as no woman in their right mind would do it for free. But if any of you chaps want to call me, I'll delight you for $200 since you're not as ugly as this chap." I retrieved a pen and paper from my purse and wrote Cheryl's phone number on it, tore it off, and placed it on the table.

"Would $200 be enough for all of you?" asked the guy who'd blown me a kiss.

"No, but I'll do the all three of you for $300 if you permit me to charge this man $300 to sit in a corner and view the proceedings," I said, pointing at Simon.

"Hmm, we'll think about it," said the kiss-blower.

"In the meantime, consider this," I added. I hoisted my skirt just enough to show them my vagina, while ensuring Simon couldn't see it.

I lowered my skirt and walked away, leading Simon to his vehicle. "Hop to it, boar, let's conclude this transaction so I can locate a proper man to satisfy me."

"Hang on," said the kiss-blower. "Who should we ask for?"

I paused. An in-joke from my first encounter with Gerald had evolved into a pseudonym he used when hiring me.

"Godiva."

Once we arrived at his car, Simon said, "Okay, you can revert back to being a cunt."

"As you say," I replied.

He permitted me into his apartment, asking if I wanted a drink.

"No, scoundrel, I don't need a drink. I want to get this situation over and done with so I can hunt down a man worthy of my affection. Lead me to your bedroom, cretin."

He complied, shutting the door behind us.

"Strip down, oaf." I folded my arms and eyed him. "Take off every last piece of your clothing, dolt."

"My underwear, too?" he questioned.

"Naturally, analogous waste of sperm. I'm being contracted to have sex with you. How am I meant to have sex with you if you don't let me see your genitals? Forage for insight, fool."

"Sorry, ma'am." He bowed his head and removed his briefs, exposing his erection.

I examined him at a distance. "Sigh, ghastly. It's no wonder women refuse to have sex with you."

I walked towards him and took his penis in hand. "Evening, Fingal," I addressed his privates. I turned back to Simon. "Well, debase, do you crave a whore to caress your balls and little wiener?"

"Yes, please."

"Clarify your desires."

"Imagine me as a kinky mistress and you as my obedient servant. Now, you're gonna roll on the floor and lick my lady parts, without seeing them. Trust me, your tongue skills will be rewarded."

"Yes, mistress."

"I remember giving your friends some tips on sucking cocks. Well now it's your turn. In fact, you're even getting some pussy lessons."

"This is my pleasure mistress."

I placed both his hands on my crotch, covered his eyes with a sleep mask, and said, "Now feel my clitoris. Start licking it. Not with your briefs, but a bit higher. You must listen to my instructions carefully. This time, start with the ridges. Now trace the ridges with your tongue, more upward. No, stay there."

I felt him circling around with his tongue tip near the top of the ridges. "Now gradually increase the speed. Use my breathing cues. I'm about to explode."

Unable to proceed any further, he tilted his head away from my pussy. "Don't go now. I'll allow you to move out, once I'm done with you."

I've trained my bladder during these years to control my urination. Although I felt exhausted from the continuous orgasms, I held it all in. To disguise the fact that I've just been assaulted by pleasure, I kept my form in control. "It's time for your Session 1 with Me, little bug. So embrace my every command until I'm thoroughly satisfied, or you face further torture. Understand?"

"Yes, mistress."

Gently, I positioned his face towards my crotch. "Lick my pussy gently, my dear."

With a sensitive tongue engulfing the clitoris, he held back the shuddering orgasm. "Swiftly touch the clitoris with your tongue, and don't you dare touch the labia." Each stroke lingered a few moments, causing me to raise my hips. I tilted his head towards my thighs and his warm breath on my clitoris intensified the pleasure. My breathing issues disappeared as he stimulated my sweet spot. "Oh my. You're producing another orgasm, you're lucky boy! To show you my approval, lick inside a 'V' near the top of my clit."

Tingling throbbed through my whole body. One orgasm gave way to another, and another, and the sensations melted together into a lengthy orgasm mishmash. "Reminder: It's not a joke to disobey me. You're just a big tease, you slut."

"Yes, thank you mistress."

Oh. My. God. The way he kneeled down while keeping a sleep mask on his eyes and dedicated every ounce of his energy into pleasing me struck a chord through my heart. Regretfully, I raised his face away from me. "Now enjoy a much needed rest. No moving until allowed."

I sat back, gathered my thoughts, and and closed my eyes. For a moment I imagined myself in my own bedroom, after a few sessions. My lounge, in a future moment, would be filled with the likes of him, whining my name in adoration, begging for my mercy. Then I could relieve him of that horrible burden, and send him back home, until the next lesson. Laughter came out naturally. "We can't have pansies running around the town, now can we?"

"No, mistress."

The thought had passed, and I racked my mind for these pathetic people, who thought a sleep mask would do any good. "Alright, let's continue once I get settled. Though I'm still sore, I can't wait to extract your knob."

"Yes, mistress. Will you reward me once done, mistress?"

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it... got it?"

"Can I ask what a trick means, and what I'm a trick for, mistress?"

"Why would you want to know what a trick is, simp?"

"Sorry, I always see this word when I search about your stuff, and I want to know what it's about."

"A trick is when someone tends to manipulate using a whore." He listened patiently, as if learning an important lesson. "Women like me are not the right ones to go on dates. To treat them as if they were an equal might result in some trouble. So we hire them to serve our hidden urges. It's like an escape for them. Now rest for a moment while I foreshadow the future. Stay here or wherever I tell you to."

"Yes, Mistress."

I sat, taking my time to recover while still holding Simon's head. I had experienced many orgasms before, but I had never encountered anything like what Simon had done to me. Was he naturally gifted at cunnilingus and had just hit a grand slam on his first try? Or was I just getting off on being a cruel bitch in bed? Or am I the best pussy licking instructor in the world?

After regaining my composure, I instructed Simon to lie on his back. I made sure his sleep mask was secure, pulled a condom from my purse, and stripped naked.

Simon's erection was limp. "You look so pathetic lying there. You don't deserve the pleasure I'm about to give you, loser." His erection soon returned. I took hold of it, licked it, and then gently bit the head. "Did you like that, pervert?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you want to touch my breasts, you sicko?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I placed Simon's hand gently on my breast. He felt me up in a way I hadn't expected, and it was quite enjoyable.

"Does that feel good, pervert?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you notice anything about my nipples?" I leaned over him and guided his other hand to my other breast. He gently caressed my nipples with his palms, then rolled them between his fingers and thumbs. The sensations were more intense than expected, causing me to struggle to maintain my bitchy persona.

"Your nipples are hard," he said.

"And what does that mean, scumbag?"

"It means you're horny," he replied.

"And what's causing your mistress to feel this state?"

"Your money?"

"Excellent work, boy."

I placed his hands back on the bed, opened the condom, and slipped it on his dick. I then climbed on top of him.

I lifted myself up and grabbed his dick, sliding the tip against my pussy entrance. It slid in and out with ease due to my wetness.

"Simon, you'll meet a lovely woman one day who loves you deeply. In a tender moment, she will tell you about the moment she gave up her virginity to a young man worthy of receiving it. She may still be a virgin, waiting for this very moment to happen with you."

I positioned his dick at my entrance and lowered myself just a touch, ensuring it was not in me yet. "And what will you tell that sweet young woman who loves you?"

"What will I say, mistress?" inquired Simon.

"You'll say," I lowered myself onto him, penetrating his body, "'I paid a whore to fuck me.'" I leaned forward and pressed my breasts onto his chest while we made love. "If you had stopped me thirty seconds ago, you could have told that sweet, loving woman waiting for you that you were a virgin and waited for her."

"But I'm not a virgin anymore, Simon," my body moved rapidly, pushing him as hard as possible. "The whore you paid to fuck you is riding you now, making you feel incredible pleasure you've never felt before," I observed.

"You'll have to tell that sweet young woman that you fucked the hottest whore ever, and you paid $500 to receive the privilege of inserting your small cock into a hot whore's pussy that countless other men had paid to enjoy."

Surges of pleasure shook my body, but I resisted the urge to make a vocal sound to maintain my cruel character. After taking several deep breaths, I freed him to continue his thrusting. "She'll be angry, but what you're experiencing will make it worth it. To make amends, you might have to hire a gigolo to fuck her. That way, she'll know what it feels like to be fucked by a real man with a big enough dick to reach all the sensitive pleasure spots inside her that your tiny member will never reach. Will you truly love her enough to allow her to experience such intimacy with a skilled stranger, just like you're experiencing a level of pleasure you'll never feel again?"

Once during that long interrogation, he convulsed and struggled to breathe as I felt his erection pulse and the condom expand within me. I tightened my vagina around his cock and gave him several deep thrusts along the length of his penis, trying to extract as much cum as possible. I bent forward to free his softening penis, crept toward his face, and sat on his mouth.

"Tongue me, Traveller," I ordered. He obeyed. It didn't take much time before I was brought to another orgasm, and this time I refused to hold back my cries of pleasure. I climbed off his face and plopped down on the bed next to him.

We lay still for a few seconds. "Wow," he eventually expressed.

"Was it what you thought it would be?"

"Yes, ma'am, and more."

"Would you like to see the body you just lost your virginity to?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I flipped over the eye mask. His odd eyes stared at my breasts and genitals wide-eyed.

"Wow," he exclaimed.

"You don't have to address me as ma'am anymore," I warned. "If you want me to keep treating you like shit, that's an option, though."

"I'm ready to relax now."

"Good. You know those insults I hurled at you weren't real, right? You're not pathetic, a loser, or a pervert."

"And my penis?"

"It's actually longer than average. I've seen bigger ones, but not many."

"Okay." He exhaled a sigh of relief.

"And you have exceptional oral skills. Have you never performed oral sex on a woman before?"

"No. Or touched one. Or seen one in person. Why was I so good?"

"I'm very serious; your oral sex skills were incredible. That orgasm you gave me while you were attending to me - Oh my God. I've never... I've had multiple orgasms during sex, but there's always a gap between them, a chance to breathe. The one you gave me was like multiple orgasms stacked one on top of the other. I've never experienced anything like that before, never even heard of it. It was so pleasurable it bordered on being overbearing, like a sugar rush of orgasms."

"I'm really good?"

"Oh yes, champion. You just gave Godiva the most prolonged, most intense, and most sensational orgasm of her life."

"Nicely done."

"You're absolutely fantastic, chum," I said. I embraced him and kissed his lips.

We resumed kissing for a few minutes without clothes. I captured the used condom and tossed it out. I went to bed and cuddled with Traveller.

"You don't have to leave," he asked.

"I'll stay with you until morning if you want me to."

"That's good to know."

We fell asleep.

I woke up to the feeling of Traveller's fingers stroking my chest, waist, hips, and genitals. I closed my eyes again to relish his light touching. I opened one eye just enough to observe his fingers exploring my every erogenous zone. I spotted that his penis was erect again. I reached over to it, found it hard, and planted a kiss on his mouth.

Traveller referred to me by name and asked, "Can I make love to you?"

"Call me Godiva," I said. "You can make love to Godiva."

I hunted through my purse for a new condom and put it on. I lay back down beside him. Traveller confidently flipped me onto my back and spread my legs. He kissed my clitoris, then each of my nipples, and then inserted his penis into me. His cock felt wooden inside of me, solid enough to perform his duties and satisfy me, but with a tender surface.

He lay down on top of me and wrapped his arms beneath and around me. He commenced involuntarily moving in and out of me. I felt the loving kisses on my neck and the gentle nibbling on my ear, and his whispers about my loveliness, generosity, and desirability. As the tempo of his thrusts increased, the kisses became more intense, the nibbles became bites, and the flattery became exaggerated declarations of never-ending devotion.

The physical sensation of his cock in me was sexual enough to maintain my arousal but not enough to create an orgasm. I enjoyed the ego high of being the recipient of his affection instead of the physiological pleasure.

He let out a groan of satisfaction as I felt him ejaculate inside me.

Still clutching me close, he rolled us both onto our sides and kept his penis inserted in me as we drifted off to sleep once more.

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